


The Kennels

by spowell Count Dracula series (SPowell)



Series: Count Dracula [54]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Bestiality, Character Death, Disturbing Themes, Humiliation, Imprisonment, Other, Vampires, Werewolves, blood-lust, dub-con, enslavement, non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-01-14
Packaged: 2018-03-07 12:18:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3173552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SPowell/pseuds/spowell%20Count%20Dracula%20series
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cenred gives Arthur the keys to the kennels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Kennels

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the delay; things have gotten busy.
> 
> Warning: Some readers may find this entry very disturbing. Please see tags.

 

 

 

Arthur had been close to the kennels a few times since Cenred’s cryptic comment, but he’d seen nothing amiss and rather thought Cenred had been toying with him.

Just as Arthur had forgotten about it entirely, Cenred came to Arthur one day after the first meal and leaned close to whisper in his ear.

“The Count is busy with a visitor. Meet me outside in ten minutes. Bring a torch.”

Arthur considered not doing it. He didn’t have to listen to Cenred, but his curiosity overpowered everything else.

Clouds blew over a quarter moon, and several howls from the woods split the quiet of the night. Cenred soon appeared from around the corner of the house.

“Here,” he said, placing a ring of keys in Arthur’s palm. “This opens the door to the inside, where the dogs sleep. This one is to the stud room.”

“What—“ Arthur began to ask, but Cenred was already half-way to the woods.

Slowly, Arthur walked toward the stables, his steps slower than they had been just a couple of weeks previous. The baby had grown; Arthur felt daily reminders of that. It now kicked his internal organs and moved over his bladder, making him have to relieve himself frequently. His belly had grown larger, and he was constantly tired. Dracula hovered over him much of the time, eager to make Arthur more comfortable, but there wasn’t much he could do. The fact that Arthur didn’t have the voluptuous, accommodating hips of a woman to balance out the extra weight he carried made every move of his body so much more difficult.

Added to all that, Arthur experienced frequent headaches and bouts of hormonal angst that he tried to hide from the Count. He’d been successful so far by retreating to the library behind a book when these came on.

Arthur reached the kennels and unlocked the door. It was dark inside. Arthur held the torch high, and he was instantly met with the whining and whimpering of the big dogs as they lifted their square heads and wagged their tails at him.

Looking around, Arthur wasn’t sure what it was he was supposed to see. The Presa Canarios were in their separate pens. As he moved the torch back and forth, the dogs eagerly pressed their noses against the bars. They were large, hefty dogs—each weighing close to a hundred pounds with heads as wide as they were long. Arthur stood studying them a moment before moving around to the door marked “Stud Room.” Looking at the keys, Arthur chose the one Cenred had shown him and unlocked the door.

Inside this smaller room there were only three big dogs in the caged area, evidently kept separate in order to breed. Arthur again held the torch high and walked over to the bars. One brindle dog sat licking its paw. Farther in the back, the other two were humping energetically. Arthur was about to move away when he caught sight of something. He moved closer and gasped.

Arthur's heart pounded as he stepped closer to the bars and strained to see in the dim light from the torch. The big animal’s haunches thrust in and out as it hunched over, covering something with its body. Something that was not a dog. The animal stilled and licked at the thing beneath it for a long while before finally moving off.

When Arthur caught sight of the long, gnarled hair and the bare, female body, he went cold.

“Gwendolyn…” he rasped.

She turned her face to him, large brown eyes sparking with recognition for a half second before going dull again. The other dog got to its feet, and Arthur saw its long, red phallus unsheathe underneath its belly as it approached Gwendolyn and mounted her from behind.

Gwendolyn let out a moan of despair as the dog began rutting into her.

Dazed, Arthur called out to her again.

“Gwendolyn! _Get off her, you brute!_ ” He yelled at the dog, but it continued to rut. When it was finished, Gwendolyn turned and looked at Arthur again. She made a move toward the bars, and Arthur got a better look at her nude body in the light of the torch—she was terribly dirty and had bite marks all over her, particularly on her shoulders and back.

“That’s it. Come here, Gwendolyn.” Arthur began desperately trying keys in the lock of the cage door. “I’ll let you out of there. That’s it…come over here.”

The first dog jumped on Gwendolyn again, and Arthur watched in fascinated horror as Gwendolyn began to writhe in ecstasy as the dog fucked her until she cried out, body jerking as she came.

Arthur couldn’t find the right key; none of them fit. Cursing, he looked about him for something with which to pry open the lock. He turned around at the yelp of a dog to find that Gwendolyn had grabbed it and bitten into its neck , blood-lust in her eyes.

This was not the woman that Arthur once knew. His hands came away from the lock. He stared into Gwendolyn’s hungry eyes as she sucked from the dog lying limp in her lap. When she’d finished and pushed it away, she again began to crawl toward Arthur.

Arthur gripped the bars, watching Gwendolyn’s progress across the floor. Blood dripped from her mouth, and her nostrils flared as though detecting a pleasing aroma.

“Gwendolyn,” Arthur said shakily. “Gwendolyn—are you in there somewhere? Do you know me? It’s Arthur.”

Gwendolyn pulled herself up, pressing her body to the bars, her breasts jutting out between them.

Arthur said her name again, and she reached for him, making a sudden swipe to grab him as she hissed, eyes flashing with unconcealed hunger. Arthur barely avoided being pulled against the bars. He stumbled back.

“I’ll help you,” he said. “I will, Gwendolyn. I will help you.” He turned and ran from the room and out of the kennel, taking deep breaths of air and holding onto his extended belly. The child within him kicked, as though detecting his anguish.

Dracula, in his jealousy, had sent Gwendolyn to the kennels to live like a dog. A bitch in heat. Thick bile made its way up Arthur’s throat and he heaved once, twice, spilling the small amount of food and blood he’d consumed earlier onto the ground.

Wiping the sweat off his face, Arthur stumbled to the barn, searching the ground for what he needed.

It was a good thirty minutes later that he made his way back to the kennels and entered the Stud Room again.

Gwen lay with the two big dogs. When Arthur entered, she flicked a gaze at him but otherwise made no movement.

“Gwendolyn!” He called to her. “Come here…come on. I’m going to help you. You want out of here, don’t you?”

Arthur couldn’t tell if Gwendolyn understood him or not. She stared at him listlessly for long moments, but finally she rolled over to her hands and knees and began crawling toward him. One of the dogs immediately lunged forward and mounted her.

“Down!” Arthur yelled at it. “Get off her!”

Gwendolyn moaned, trying to crawl toward Arthur as the dog spastically humped her. When she reached the bars, Arthur poked at the animal with the piece of wood he’d sharpened in the barn.

“Get away! Get!” He hit the dog in its flank and it whimpered, backing away.

Gwendolyn smiled, showing her fangs, and licked her red lips. Recognising his chance, Arthur put his arms through the bars, grabbed hold of Gwendolyn’s matted hair with one hand, and shoved the stake up through her heart with the other.

Gwendolyn’s eyes opened wide, registering surprise, body stiffening in his grip as she gasped for air. Blood pooled in her mouth; and as Arthur waited, hands trembling as they continued to grip the stake and her hair, he thought he saw real lucidity in her gaze.

“Thank you,” she murmured, before jerking and crumbling lifeless to the floor.

Shaking, Arthur threw the stake to the ground and staggered through the door, past the cages in the kennel and outside, where he stood gulping breaths of fresh night air. His face and armpits were damp with sweat, and his head spun as he stepped forward, eyes on the Manor. After three steps, he promptly fell to the ground, unconscious.

 


End file.
